It was a thing of beauty

A marvel to behold
And somehow I up and fool lost it. Actually it was another too long rant about my crap mindset of late. Trying this post thing from a nother computer at work and --- blip --- 'twas gone.

Meandering towards unemployment

Updates are overrated
There have been days of late where I wanted to chuck my hands in the air and cry out "Them dirty bastiches win again!" The thought of grinding through the summer without an extended vacation from work has me a bit twitchy. Co-workers nervously grin when you say "and that's why they won't let me own a gun," randomly.
Idjits, theys all a bunch a idjits
Bosses tend not to like it too much when you ask if they are on crack in front of other employees. We all wonder about it quite often, but ask aloud and its your ass sonny. As I get older the "you just imagine them naked" ploy gets even more horrific each time.

A mini boom

Can you say class action?
Well hell, The latest count has five people at my job, two of my friends and one of my wife's all expecting kids in December or January. My best guess is that there had to be a severe shortage of anything to watch on tv, so lets sue 'em. My wife goes for her first doctors visit tomorrow. They should peg a due date for the new arrival at that time.

Learning curves

Naked and alone
There really are things that a grown man should not spend too much time being.
I remember now
They say that the queasiness associated with pregnancy diminishes in most by the 12th week. I sure hope so, my stomach is wrecked. My wife seems to be doing much better this time around. During her first pregnancy, we were living in an apartment. A family down the hall from us would on occasion cook something that I would imagine called for a small truck-load of onions, garlic and a healthy dose of what a college friend of mine refers to as "outlaw Pakistani spices". The whole building would be engulfed in a invisible cloud of funk for the two days as the meal festered in early summer heat. Usually the smell would fade just in time for the next batch to be stirred off. To this day if I so mush as have anything that has even the slightest amount of hummus on it, she won't let me in the same room with her. Three days without a shower and I can cuddle on up, yet if I nosh on a gyro, I'm banished to the couch.
Trying times ahead
I'm not talking about the pregnancy thing here. Actually this is where I go geek. Being new to the world of blogs I am sure that I will find many new and exciting ways to foul this thing up. I would like it more if the templates were more consistent with older browsers. I usually surf with IE5 on a Mac under OS 9. This is both at home and work. Yes, my work computer is that old. I have found that Netscape 7 does a decent job showing the pages but the editor is a bit clunkier. Anyway, please, a bit of patience as I get to working here. Although I would imagine I will probably be the only one mucking about in this dark little corner of the Net for quite some time.

Starting something

I was thinking about getting a dog.
A boxer perhaps. I would prefer a breed that had some real distinctive dog-like qualities. No Fifis, Ladys or some other nice-nice sounding frou-frou dogs need apply. I'm talking about a Spike from the cartoons kind of macho dog. I was tossing around the name Balthus. It's a artist's name, but has that chest-huffing sound to it. I imagine you could grunt, growl out the name Balthus then spit all macho-like in one combined motion.
On the fence
We were planning on putting up a fence this year. Mostly to contain the three-year-old, blonde headed boy that allows us to live at his house. A six-foot treated wood number should suffice to keep our neighbors from feeling overwhelmed with envy at the harmonious balance of areas of grass and those of things-not-grass that is our lawn.
A weight on my chest
My wife was in tears. I was semi-spawled on the couch enjoying a brief rest from the forementioned toddler playing with plastic super-hero figures on my head when she appeared. My first line of reason, "What have I done now?" After a quick mental check I was pretty sure that some dirty dishes and a load of clean but not yet folded laundry was not the cause of her discomfort. She was way beyond discomfort. Perhaps she had broken a toe on one of the dumbbells I had recently purchased. The fact that she had not dropped said dumbbell on my chest , but a small plastic stick-like thing ruled that type of injury out. On the plastic thing were two windows, each having a vertical line through them. Looking at the handy key located on the handle, I looked up at my wife and now knew why she was in tears. We are going to have another child.